Growth Chapter 9
Title: Growth
Chapter: One Two Three Four Five Six Six.5 Seven Eight Nine Nine.5 Ten Eleven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Slash, MPREG, gratuitous use of Vulcan language (vocal and body), sex, somewhat mediocre writing; stuff like that. Violence.
Summary: Sequel to “Of Convenience”. Entering a new chapter in life is difficult when you’re single. As a pair? Let’s just say Spock and Kirk are going to have their work cut out for them if this chapter’s going to end the way they want it to.
It was during the mission briefing that they agreed to inform the crew. Jim had been eager to do so, practically bouncing as they went over their plans. He had, however, had a sudden change of heart at the last second - one for which Spock was quite grateful.
“And once we’ve dropped the new colonist at the transport dock in Sector Two, we will resume out previous course,” Jim finished, propping his hands on his hips. “Everyone got it?”
There was a murmur of confirmation, and a few crewmembers moved to stand. Jim cleared his throat. “Before you leave, I believe Mr. Spock has an announcement.”
The attention of the room turned to the Vulcan, and Spock paused to phrase his statement. “In approximately three months, I will be placed on leave from active duty. This leave will last between twelve and twenty weeks,” he informed them, watching the confusion blossom on their faces. Nyota’s expression, however, changed to one of surprise and excitement. How easily she understood. “I will remain onboard for the duration, but my responsibilities will be greatly diminished.”
Chekov was the first to react, tentatively raising his hand in question. “But Commander,” he said, eyes wide. “Why won’t you be working if you’ll be on the ship?”
Jim’s excitement was growing, and Spock could not keep him in suspense. “That, Ensign Chekov, is because I will be placed on bed rest at that time,” he replied. “It will coincide with the start of my paternity leave. I am sixteen weeks pregnant.”
Nyota let out a whooping laugh, quite unlike anything Spock had heard from her before. “I knew it!” she crowed, her voice taking a nearly musical tone, ringing with glee. Her grin was wider than he’d ever seen it, and for a long moment he found himself unable to speak. Her grin naturally faded into a warm, closed-lip smile, and with a gentle voice, she said, “I knew it. Congratulations, Spock.”
Now he remembered why he’d been so drawn to the linguist. Jim echoed his agreement. “Thank you, Nyota.”
Sulu, however, seemed markedly less excited. “Wait, you guys are having a baby?” he asked. “I-that’s great and all, but aren’t you moving way fast? How are you going to raise a kid on a starship?”
Chekov smacked his arm, and Jim frowned. “Sulu, that’s our problem - not yours.”
Scott leaned back. “It’s a decent concern, Captain. It just means he wants the best for you and the baby.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Your concern is noted, Lieutenant,” he told him, “but once again, it is our decision and our responsibility. Our impending parenthood will not affect our command.”
Chekov again raised a hand, looking eager this time. “So, if you are at sixteen weeks,” he began, tone light and pace quick, stumbling slightly over his words, “you know if it is a boy or girl, yes?”
“Yes,” Jim confirmed. Chekov nodded him on. “But you’re using the wrong pronoun.”
Chekov waved his hand in the air. “All right. Is he or she a he or she?”
Spock understood Jim’s deliberate trap now and shook his head. “They,” he stressed, “are both.”
Scott was the first to pick up on Spock’s statement. “Wait, twins?” he asked. “Oh, but - twins or more?”
“Just twins,” Jim reassured him, just as Nyota let out a noise of surprise. Jim looked at her. “Something wrong, Lieutenant Uhura?”
Nyota stiffened in her seat. “Vulcans don’t have twins,” she argued, sounding uncertain how to word her statements. “I’m a bit surprised, is all. Did you introduce multiple embryos? Or did you have to use fertility drugs?”
Jim looked unforgivably smug, and Spock felt his intense pride and amusement before he spoke again. “Good old fashioned elbow grease, Lieutenant,” he smirked. He reconsidered after a moment. “Well, I guess elbows weren’t really the joints in question, but I think you understand. We just got really lucky this time around, I guess.”
“That’s a lot of luck,” she said, sounding skeptical. “Spock?”
“The conception of twins was fortuitous, but unplanned,” he confirmed. “We intended to conceive only one infant.”
“Not that we’re complaining,” Jim added, and that was the last conversation to be had for awhile. The crew offered their own forms of congratulations - physical strikes to Jim’s back seemed most prevalent, particularly among the men - and Nyota approached to examine his abdomen, letting out that toothy grin again when she found the curve.
And when Spock met Jim’s eyes, he knew this was the best they could’ve asked for.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
When Sybok was brought onto the ship, Spock found himself rendered immobile by his appearance. His facial hair had grown out, unkempt and gnarled. The clothes he wore resembled, in some ways, a bastardization of priests’ robes, unnecessarily decorated and gaudy. His ears were covered by grease-heavy hair reaching towards his chin.
Sybok’s nostrils flared. “Congratulations, brother,” he offered, approaching with one hand emerging from his robes. “If I may?”
Spock shook his head. “It is too early,” he explained almost hastily. “The pregnancy is barely at sixteen and a half weeks. The scent is only so strong because I am carrying twins.”
Sybok’s hand dropped, disappearing back into the folds of his fluorescent robe. “I see,” he said, looking disappointed. Spock tried not to recoil at the human expression on his elder brother’s face. “Your husband - Jim, I believe? - I look forward to meeting him.”
“He feels likewise,” Spock admitted. “Before that, though, I’m certain you require a meal - perhaps a shower?”
His brother’s hand emerged again, brushing through his tangled beard. “I suppose I could stand to groom. I must be quite a sight,” he joked, and to Spock’s immense discomfort, he smiled. “Would you be willing to direct me to my quarters?”
Spock nodded, motioning for the full-blooded Vulcan to follow him. His scent wafted towards him when he moved, and it engendered in him a surge of adrenaline. He turned on his heel to look him in the eye, one hand going to the phaser in his belt. “You are in Pon Farr.”
He stepped back, nodding in the affirmative. “My entire convent was infected by an unknown biological entity - some sort of catalyst - which invokes and accelerates Pon Farr. One by one, our members have succumbed to the madness,” he informed him. “I am close to entering the Plak Tow. The healers on New Vulcan may be able to prevent this - but they may not, and I may need to take a mate. Either way, I must arrive at the colony as expediently as possible.”
Spock maintained his distance, keeping his hand near his phaser. “We may need to quarantine you,” he said evenly. “The last time we transported a man in Pon Farr, the results were nearly catastrophic.”
“I understand,” Sybok nodded. Spock stood, completely on edge and ignoring Jim’s concerned prodding. “It would be best for you to initiate said quarantine as soon as possible.”
He nodded, turning again and leading him to the turbolift. Few guest quarters were equipped with quarantine locks, and the ones they had prepared for him were no exception. He would have to be moved. Spock registered the change in status and room arrangement on his PADD, forwarding the notice to Jim. Once the confirmation was noted, he led him down the hallway.
“Have you explained Pon Farr to Jim yet?” his brother suddenly asked, halfway to his rooms. Spock shook his head, not looking back. “This may be your best opportunity. Whatever has initiated mine may affect you as well. The risk to you, your mate, and your unborn children is significant.”
They arrived at the newly registered quarters. “There are no recorded cases of Pon Farr during gestation,” Spock pointed out. “The risk is minimal. However, I will take your suggestions under advisement.”
Sybok nodded, waiting for Spock to key him into his rooms. As he did so, he noted the violent spasming of his hands. Against his better judgment, he met the older man’s eyes.
“Would you like a sedative to dull the worst of the symptoms while we are in transit?” he asked. Sybok shook his head. “Brother. If you are already on the verge of the Plak Tow-”
He stepped inside. “I do not wish to be drugged,” he said firmly. “I understand your concern for the safety and wellbeing of your crewmates - and your brother - but I am afraid it is against my beliefs. I must admit, though, that I am flattered at the display of any concern for me.”
Spock raised an eyebrow as minutely as possible. “May I ask as to how this is ‘against your beliefs’?”
Sybok’s hands spasmed again, worse this time than before. “Spock. If I am to die because of this, I wish to be cognizant of it,” he replied. “I would rather not enter the beyond in confusion as to how I got there.”
Spock had learned long ago not to argue with Sybok over his religious beliefs. “Very well,” he conceded. “I will commence quarantine, then.”
Sybok saluted. “Until our arrival.”
Spock returned the gesture. “Likewise.”
Next Part
Chapter: One Two Three Four Five Six Six.5 Seven Eight Nine Nine.5 Ten Eleven
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Warnings: Slash, MPREG, gratuitous use of Vulcan language (vocal and body), sex, somewhat mediocre writing; stuff like that. Violence.
Summary: Sequel to “Of Convenience”. Entering a new chapter in life is difficult when you’re single. As a pair? Let’s just say Spock and Kirk are going to have their work cut out for them if this chapter’s going to end the way they want it to.
It was during the mission briefing that they agreed to inform the crew. Jim had been eager to do so, practically bouncing as they went over their plans. He had, however, had a sudden change of heart at the last second - one for which Spock was quite grateful.
“And once we’ve dropped the new colonist at the transport dock in Sector Two, we will resume out previous course,” Jim finished, propping his hands on his hips. “Everyone got it?”
There was a murmur of confirmation, and a few crewmembers moved to stand. Jim cleared his throat. “Before you leave, I believe Mr. Spock has an announcement.”
The attention of the room turned to the Vulcan, and Spock paused to phrase his statement. “In approximately three months, I will be placed on leave from active duty. This leave will last between twelve and twenty weeks,” he informed them, watching the confusion blossom on their faces. Nyota’s expression, however, changed to one of surprise and excitement. How easily she understood. “I will remain onboard for the duration, but my responsibilities will be greatly diminished.”
Chekov was the first to react, tentatively raising his hand in question. “But Commander,” he said, eyes wide. “Why won’t you be working if you’ll be on the ship?”
Jim’s excitement was growing, and Spock could not keep him in suspense. “That, Ensign Chekov, is because I will be placed on bed rest at that time,” he replied. “It will coincide with the start of my paternity leave. I am sixteen weeks pregnant.”
Nyota let out a whooping laugh, quite unlike anything Spock had heard from her before. “I knew it!” she crowed, her voice taking a nearly musical tone, ringing with glee. Her grin was wider than he’d ever seen it, and for a long moment he found himself unable to speak. Her grin naturally faded into a warm, closed-lip smile, and with a gentle voice, she said, “I knew it. Congratulations, Spock.”
Now he remembered why he’d been so drawn to the linguist. Jim echoed his agreement. “Thank you, Nyota.”
Sulu, however, seemed markedly less excited. “Wait, you guys are having a baby?” he asked. “I-that’s great and all, but aren’t you moving way fast? How are you going to raise a kid on a starship?”
Chekov smacked his arm, and Jim frowned. “Sulu, that’s our problem - not yours.”
Scott leaned back. “It’s a decent concern, Captain. It just means he wants the best for you and the baby.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Your concern is noted, Lieutenant,” he told him, “but once again, it is our decision and our responsibility. Our impending parenthood will not affect our command.”
Chekov again raised a hand, looking eager this time. “So, if you are at sixteen weeks,” he began, tone light and pace quick, stumbling slightly over his words, “you know if it is a boy or girl, yes?”
“Yes,” Jim confirmed. Chekov nodded him on. “But you’re using the wrong pronoun.”
Chekov waved his hand in the air. “All right. Is he or she a he or she?”
Spock understood Jim’s deliberate trap now and shook his head. “They,” he stressed, “are both.”
Scott was the first to pick up on Spock’s statement. “Wait, twins?” he asked. “Oh, but - twins or more?”
“Just twins,” Jim reassured him, just as Nyota let out a noise of surprise. Jim looked at her. “Something wrong, Lieutenant Uhura?”
Nyota stiffened in her seat. “Vulcans don’t have twins,” she argued, sounding uncertain how to word her statements. “I’m a bit surprised, is all. Did you introduce multiple embryos? Or did you have to use fertility drugs?”
Jim looked unforgivably smug, and Spock felt his intense pride and amusement before he spoke again. “Good old fashioned elbow grease, Lieutenant,” he smirked. He reconsidered after a moment. “Well, I guess elbows weren’t really the joints in question, but I think you understand. We just got really lucky this time around, I guess.”
“That’s a lot of luck,” she said, sounding skeptical. “Spock?”
“The conception of twins was fortuitous, but unplanned,” he confirmed. “We intended to conceive only one infant.”
“Not that we’re complaining,” Jim added, and that was the last conversation to be had for awhile. The crew offered their own forms of congratulations - physical strikes to Jim’s back seemed most prevalent, particularly among the men - and Nyota approached to examine his abdomen, letting out that toothy grin again when she found the curve.
And when Spock met Jim’s eyes, he knew this was the best they could’ve asked for.
<><><><><><><><><><><><>
When Sybok was brought onto the ship, Spock found himself rendered immobile by his appearance. His facial hair had grown out, unkempt and gnarled. The clothes he wore resembled, in some ways, a bastardization of priests’ robes, unnecessarily decorated and gaudy. His ears were covered by grease-heavy hair reaching towards his chin.
Sybok’s nostrils flared. “Congratulations, brother,” he offered, approaching with one hand emerging from his robes. “If I may?”
Spock shook his head. “It is too early,” he explained almost hastily. “The pregnancy is barely at sixteen and a half weeks. The scent is only so strong because I am carrying twins.”
Sybok’s hand dropped, disappearing back into the folds of his fluorescent robe. “I see,” he said, looking disappointed. Spock tried not to recoil at the human expression on his elder brother’s face. “Your husband - Jim, I believe? - I look forward to meeting him.”
“He feels likewise,” Spock admitted. “Before that, though, I’m certain you require a meal - perhaps a shower?”
His brother’s hand emerged again, brushing through his tangled beard. “I suppose I could stand to groom. I must be quite a sight,” he joked, and to Spock’s immense discomfort, he smiled. “Would you be willing to direct me to my quarters?”
Spock nodded, motioning for the full-blooded Vulcan to follow him. His scent wafted towards him when he moved, and it engendered in him a surge of adrenaline. He turned on his heel to look him in the eye, one hand going to the phaser in his belt. “You are in Pon Farr.”
He stepped back, nodding in the affirmative. “My entire convent was infected by an unknown biological entity - some sort of catalyst - which invokes and accelerates Pon Farr. One by one, our members have succumbed to the madness,” he informed him. “I am close to entering the Plak Tow. The healers on New Vulcan may be able to prevent this - but they may not, and I may need to take a mate. Either way, I must arrive at the colony as expediently as possible.”
Spock maintained his distance, keeping his hand near his phaser. “We may need to quarantine you,” he said evenly. “The last time we transported a man in Pon Farr, the results were nearly catastrophic.”
“I understand,” Sybok nodded. Spock stood, completely on edge and ignoring Jim’s concerned prodding. “It would be best for you to initiate said quarantine as soon as possible.”
He nodded, turning again and leading him to the turbolift. Few guest quarters were equipped with quarantine locks, and the ones they had prepared for him were no exception. He would have to be moved. Spock registered the change in status and room arrangement on his PADD, forwarding the notice to Jim. Once the confirmation was noted, he led him down the hallway.
“Have you explained Pon Farr to Jim yet?” his brother suddenly asked, halfway to his rooms. Spock shook his head, not looking back. “This may be your best opportunity. Whatever has initiated mine may affect you as well. The risk to you, your mate, and your unborn children is significant.”
They arrived at the newly registered quarters. “There are no recorded cases of Pon Farr during gestation,” Spock pointed out. “The risk is minimal. However, I will take your suggestions under advisement.”
Sybok nodded, waiting for Spock to key him into his rooms. As he did so, he noted the violent spasming of his hands. Against his better judgment, he met the older man’s eyes.
“Would you like a sedative to dull the worst of the symptoms while we are in transit?” he asked. Sybok shook his head. “Brother. If you are already on the verge of the Plak Tow-”
He stepped inside. “I do not wish to be drugged,” he said firmly. “I understand your concern for the safety and wellbeing of your crewmates - and your brother - but I am afraid it is against my beliefs. I must admit, though, that I am flattered at the display of any concern for me.”
Spock raised an eyebrow as minutely as possible. “May I ask as to how this is ‘against your beliefs’?”
Sybok’s hands spasmed again, worse this time than before. “Spock. If I am to die because of this, I wish to be cognizant of it,” he replied. “I would rather not enter the beyond in confusion as to how I got there.”
Spock had learned long ago not to argue with Sybok over his religious beliefs. “Very well,” he conceded. “I will commence quarantine, then.”
Sybok saluted. “Until our arrival.”
Spock returned the gesture. “Likewise.”
Next Part